


Move Like Lava

by Cantatrice18



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Extended Scene, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fear, Internal Conflict, Propositions, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: Syndrome informs Mirage she ought to use every talent at her disposal when it comes to Mr. Incredible - including seduction. But Mirage knows better than to involve herself with a super, and the suggestion that she should trade her own body for information leaves her cold.





	Move Like Lava

The falling lava on either side threatened to sear her skin, the heat pressing through the barriers she’d helped design. Despite how proud Mirage was of her work, she walked quickly through the parted streams of molten rock, Syndrome following behind. Dinner awaited, an unexpected chance to get to know Mr. Incredible now that he’d proved himself worthy by defeating the latest Omnidroid. As she emerged into the blessedly cool dining chamber she heard Syndrome clear his throat meaningfully. She looked back at him, curious.

“You know the drill. Mesmerize him. Entice him with power, flatter his ego. If the moment seems right, take things further.”

“Further?” Mirage murmured, knowing full well what her employer meant but needing to hear the words spoken aloud.

Syndrome grinned, raising one eyebrow suggestively, his teeth gleaming in the light from the fiery streams of rock. “There’s a reason I had you give him a suite with a king size bed. You can thank me for that later.”

Thankfully a noise by the door distracted Syndrome before he could notice Mirage’s shudder. The tech genius shot his assistant one last meaningful look before disappearing back up the superheated corridor. Mirage smoothed the front of her gown with trembling hands as she walked toward the door. This was not the first time her employer had hinted that she use her body in unsavory ways in order to produce the right results. Syndrome thought of her as an asset, not a person, and part of her value was the undeniable effect she had on members of the opposite sex. But hints were one thing. Orders were another. 

She reached the door only to find Mr. Incredible just emerging from the monorail pod that had brought him to the heart of the volcano. He was dressed in a well-cut suit that flattered his broad shoulders. Mirage ushered him into the room, taking her seat at the far end of the table and putting as much distance as she could between herself and the super. Their conversation began innocuously enough. She inserted her typical amount of ambiguous, suggestive statements guaranteed to pique the interest of any sane man. Her mind wandered as she examined at her guest. She’d recruited Mr. Incredible, knew his every spec down to the circumference of his biceps and the amount of force he could exert with each individual muscle. Even setting aside his colossal strength, enough to tear down buildings bare-handed, he was 6’7” and over 350 pounds, three times her own weight. The likelihood of injury skyrocketed when she factored in his powers. There was a reason supers married other supers. It didn’t take a genius to understand why an affair with Mr. Incredible had the potential to be fatal. A single mistake on the superhero’s part and she’d be crushed or torn to shreds. Yet Syndrome either didn’t care to know the dangers or (more likely than not) didn’t care at all. It hurt to realize how little she meant to her employer even after all their years working together. She’d invented half the tech on the island, yet to Syndrome she was nothing more than a plaything to be passed around on a whim. 

She blinked as she noticed the conversation had gone silent, taking a sip of wine to cover her inattentiveness. Mr. Incredible was looking at her, staring at her really, taking in the full effect of the steel grey evening gown and silver necklace that dipped provocatively toward her breasts. His fingers drummed lightly on the tabletop. It wasn’t hard to tell that her presence aroused him, that he wanted to touch her. Thankfully he’d learned restraint, unlike Syndrome, who took it upon himself to caress her shoulders or her waist whenever she was within reach. She wondered fleetingly what it must be like to be more than just an object of desire. Only time would tell, she supposed. Rising to her feet, she assured her guest that he was welcome to anything on the island during his stay.

“Anything?” Mr. Incredible asked.

Mouth gone dry, Mirage nodded. “Your comfort is our first priority,” she said, the purr of her voice disguising her fear. Eyes lowered, she slipped past him and toward the wall of lava, hyperaware of his presence and prepared in case he chose to avail himself of her offer. Thankfully he remained still and silent, his hands by his sides as he watched the lava part for her. She escaped down the corridor, afraid to look back. Only when she’d made her way through the warren of passages to her own suite did she begin to breathe normally again. As she entered her room a trio of electronic chimes met her ears – messages from syndrome. She was halfway to her computer when she paused. Her knees were still trembling in relief, her entire body exhausted from the tension of the dinner. She needed to soak her muscles in a hot bath, to wash away the memories of that night. Syndrome could wait.


End file.
